Chapter 110 Expecting a Miracle
In the ward of Yunshen Pavilion, the smell of disinfectant filled the air, intertwined with the faint fragrance of medicine, revealing a suffocating sense of oppression.
Sizhui lay on the hospital bed, tubes plugged into his body, the oxygen mask covering most of his face. His chest rose and fell faintly, and each breath seemed particularly labored. The curve on the monitor was eerily flat, and its occasional jump would make those watching by his side feel nervous.
Wei Wuxian sat by the bed, holding Sizhui's hand, which wasn't pierced with the needle. The boy's hand was cold, his fingertips a strange shade of purple. It was a stark contrast to the warm, little hand he remembered, the one that always clutched the corner of his shirt.
“Si Zhui, wake up…” Wei Wuxian’s voice was hoarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. “Look at Daddy. Daddy brought you pumpkin porridge, your favorite kind…”
The only response he got was the regular beeping sound of the instrument.
Ever since rescuing Sizhui from the factory that day, he'd been in a coma. Wen Ning had exhausted all his knowledge, but could only temporarily stabilize the toxins in his body, unable to completely eliminate them. Those forty poisons were entangled like an invisible web, tightly binding Sizhui's internal organs. A single misstep could be fatal.
Wei Wuxian hadn't slept in three days. He refused to leave the ward, refused to eat, refused to drink, and simply stayed there, like a stone statue about to decay. His once round cheeks had sunken, his eye sockets were dark, and stubble had sprouted on his chin. He had become emaciated and unrecognizable.
Lan Wangji walked in, holding a bowl of porridge. He placed the porridge on the bedside table and gently patted Wei Wuxian's shoulder: "Eat something."
Wei Wuxian didn't move, his eyes fixed on Sizhui, as if he hadn't heard anything.
"If you collapse like this, who will wait for him to wake up?" Lan Wangji's voice was deep, with a subtle weariness. He wasn't much better, the bloodshot under his eyes even more pronounced than Wei Wuxian's, but he just kept holding on, dealing with external affairs and coordinating efforts to find an antidote.
Wei Wuxian still didn't say anything, but just held Sizhui's hand tightly, until his knuckles turned white.
Lan Wangji sighed and stopped trying to persuade him. He knew that any words would be futile now. Wei Wuxian's heart, along with Sizhui's, was hanging by a thread.
He walked to the other side of the bed, his gaze fixed on Sizhui's pale face. The boy's lips were dry and chapped, with a hint of purple at the corners, a sign of the poison's spread. Lan Wangji reached out, wanting to gently smooth his frown with his fingertips, but he was afraid of hurting him. His hand paused in mid-air for a long moment before carefully lowering it.
"Si Zhui," he said softly, as if he was afraid to disturb the sleeper, "Wake up, we're going home."
The only response he got was still the beeping sound of the instrument.
The ward door was gently pushed open, and Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren walked in. Lan Qiren looked at Sizhui lying on the hospital bed, his cloudy eyes welling up. He pounded the ground with his cane, but ultimately, he didn't utter a single word of reprimand. He had watched this child grow up. Although not of Lan family blood, he had long considered him his own grandson. Now that he had become like this, the pain in his heart was no less than anyone else's.
"Any progress?" Lan Xichen asked Lan Wangji, worry in his voice.
Lan Wangji shook his head: "Wen Ning is still researching the antidote, and Su Lian refuses to say anything."
After Su Lian was brought back to Yunshen Pavilion, he remained silent. No matter how he was asked, he refused to reveal any information about the antidote. He just kept repeating "He deserves it" and "This is retribution."
"This evil creature!" Lan Qiren was shaking with anger.
“Uncle, calm down.” Lan Xichen supported him. “There’s no point getting angry now. The most urgent thing is to save Si Zhui.”
He walked over to Wei Wuxian, looked at his increasingly thin profile, and said softly, "Master Wei, you haven't slept for three days. Go and rest for a while. We'll be watching over you."
Wei Wuxian seemed not to hear and continued to stare at Sizhui's face with empty eyes.
At this time, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, and Jin Zixuan also walked in. Jiang Yanli was holding a thermos bucket in her hand. Seeing Wei Wuxian's expression, her eyes immediately turned red: "Xian, have something to eat. I made you lotus root and pork rib soup."
Wei WuXian shook his head, his voice hoarse, “I’m not hungry.”
"Even if you're not hungry, you have to eat!" Jiang Cheng frowned, his tone filled with his usual sternness. "Si Zhui is still waiting for you to save him. If you collapse, who will cheer him up?"
Wei Wuxian still didn't move.
Jin Zixuan sighed: "We have contacted the best toxicologists, they are on their way, they will definitely find a way."
“A solution…” Wei WuXian muttered, then suddenly laughed, a laugh tinged with despair. “Forty kinds of poison… How can I cure them? Su Lian had no intention of letting him live…”
"Ah Xian!" Jiang Yanli interrupted him, her voice tinged with tears, "Don't say that. Si Zhui is so good and so strong, he will definitely get through this!"
“Yes, Sizhui was so brave. He didn’t even cry when he got the injection last time…” Wei Wuxian’s voice choked up, “But this time… this time he lost so much blood and was poisoned so much… He’s only fifteen years old…”
He couldn't hold it in any longer and lay on the bed crying like a helpless child. The fear, self-blame, and heartache that had been pent up for several days burst out at this moment.
Lan Wangji immediately walked over, pulled him into his arms, and patted his back gently. His eyes were red, but he bit his lip tightly, refusing to let the tears fall - he couldn't cry. If he collapsed, what would happen to Wei Wuxian and Sizhui?
Lan Xichen turned his face away and quietly wiped his eyes. Lan Qiren closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Jiang Yanli covered her mouth, tears falling silently. Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan stood aside, their faces solemn, but they didn't know what to say.
In the ward, there was only Wei Wuxian's suppressed crying and the "beeping" sound of the instruments intertwined together, like a sad song.
Time passed slowly, and it was dark again. Wei Wuxian finally tired of crying and fell asleep in Lan Wangji's arms, his brows still furrowed, and he was still mumbling "Si Zhui".
Lan Wangji carried him to the sofa next to him, covered him with a blanket, then returned to the bedside and held Sizhui's hand.
"Si Zhui," his voice was soft and a little tired, "Wake up and look at your father. He's almost worn himself out because of you."
"Didn't you say that we should be as brave as flying a kite? Now, it's your turn to be brave."
"We are all waiting for you, waiting for you to wake up, waiting for you to get better, waiting for you... to come home."
The curve on the monitor suddenly jumped, not a big jump, but clearly visible.
Lan Wangji's heart suddenly tightened and he stared at the screen.
But the curve quickly returned to flatness, as if it was just an illusion.
Lan Wangji smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
He knew that their children must have heard it.
He will definitely wake up.
As the night deepened, the lights in the ward remained on. Lan Wangji stayed by the bed, while Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren rested with their eyes closed. Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan were packing their things, and Jiang Cheng leaned against the doorway, his gaze fixed on the bed.
They were all waiting, waiting for the child to wake up, waiting for dawn to come, waiting for hope to come.
Si Zhui, who was lying on the hospital bed, seemed to feel this waiting. His brows moved slightly and his breathing seemed to become calmer.
Maybe there will be good news tomorrow morning?
Everyone is looking forward to this in their hearts.
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